


Sleep Now

by westernbirds



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Cute, Developing Relationship, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Sick Richie Tozier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-15 08:13:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20863043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westernbirds/pseuds/westernbirds
Summary: “What are you doing, Eddie?” Stan squinted at him.“Just… looking for something.” He mumbled, then sighed, feeling his fanny pack laying safely at the bottom of his red backpack.“I’m sure Richie’s fine.” Bill assured him. “S-stop by his house after school to make sure he’s still alive.” He gave Eddie a small smile.Eddie swallowed. “Okay.”He left after lunch.





	Sleep Now

**Author's Note:**

> [part 1](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20692319)   
[part 2](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20809820)   
[part 3](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20825570)

"This is impossible." Stanley Uris groaned, slamming his pencil down on the cafeteria table.

"Is that for English?" Bill asked, half eaten ham sandwich in hand. "Maybe you should s-s-stop leaving it until last minute."

"Wait a minute, Stan. You're having trouble with homework?" Eddie chimed in after swallowing his bite of apple. "Since when do you finish your shit last minute?"

"Since I started eleventh grade english, I guess." He sighed in frustration, combing his curly hair through his fingers. "S'Not my strong suit."

"I'll h-help you man." Bill reached his hand across the table. "Let me read it."

Stanley shamefully handed his essay over. Eddie couldn’t comprehend why Stan was concerned about this particular grade when he excelled in every other subject. Eddie’s name was up on the honour roll too; not far below his friends’ own, so he at least understood the pressure of staying on top.

Eddie went back to his apple, watching Bill read over Stan’s assignment carefully. Bill always made sense of the nonsensical. He knew how to speak straight from the heart. Eddie’s own strong suits were math and biology, Ben and Mike’s were history, Beverly was an exceptional artist…and Richie…

Richie was good at nearly everything. He didn’t even have to try. Every grade he got was somewhere between an A+ and a B, and Eddie never once watched him slave away, sweat and tears dripping onto a looseleaf (the way Eddie worked when he was alone sometimes.) It was absolutely infuriating.

Eddie suddenly realized that their table was uncharacteristically quiet.

“Hey guys, where do you think Rich ran off to today?”

The two boys looked up at Eddie. “He went home sick yesterday.” Stan said, looking a bit confused. “He didn’t tell you?”

Eddie scoffed. “No. I brought my bike yesterday so I told him not to bother waiting around to walk home with me.”

“Right. Well, he threw up in phys ed and I had to walk him to the nurses office, so I thought he would have told y—”

"What!? He threw up?” Eddie asked loudly, panic in his eyes. A crowd of freshman turned to stare, causing the teen to blush lightly.

“Just a little, he’s probably fine.” Stanley waved his hand dismissively at the wide-eyed boys’ face, listening to Bill point out all his errors on the page. “There are too many facts on the s-story here. An essay is about c-conveying meaning. Use the k-k-character’s motives as evidence...”

Bill’s voice faded from Eddie’s focus as he threw his bag up on the bench beside him. Unzipping it, he frantically searched for a smaller bag.

“What are you doing, Eddie?” Stan squinted at him.

“Just… looking for something.” He mumbled, then sighed, feeling his fanny pack laying safely at the bottom of his red backpack.

“I’m sure Richie’s fine.” Bill assured him. “S-stop by his house after school to make sure he’s still alive.” He gave Eddie a small smile.

Eddie swallowed. “Okay.”

He left after lunch.

//

Richie’s house was fifteen minutes from his own and only five from the school, but the bean pole insisted on walking Eddie home every day. _‘What if you got jumped, y’know, like you used to in middle school?’_ Eddie recalled Richie mentioning this in the beginning of freshman year. He had responded by insulting the other boys’ skinny frame and doubting it could win in a fight._ ‘But you gotta admit, there’s a better chance with the two of us.’_ Eddie shrugged in agreement.

It was five minutes into his walk in the chill October wind, and Eddie’s nose was already pink and sniffly. He doubted that Richie took a warm shower when returning home from school yesterday, if he really was sick. Eddie knew he was going to have to physically force his friend to get clean if he hadn’t. It wasn’t as if Richie hated being clean, or hated doing what Eddie told him to do; Richie just liked playing games.

_ Of course_, Eddie thought, _specifically playing games with me._

Richie sometimes pretended to not understand what Eddie thought were perfectly simple tasks. Eddie had a theory that Rich did this out of laziness, a manipulative way to make the brunet do things for him, but he knew deep down that Richie just enjoyed his reactions.

His long, drawn-out, detailed explanations of a subject...

Study sessions, Eddie’s teaching on the benefits of revising and self-testing… ‘_Boring_!’ Richie would complain, but remain seated on Eddie’s bedroom floor, textbook open on a perfectly sunny Saturday afternoon.

The shoving, the teasing…

And touching.

Eddie shivered. When Richie needed help cutting vegetables, repairing his bike, or hammering a nail, Eddie was there to guide his hands. He even came over to the Tozier’s last week to help the idiot wash his sheets and make his bed; Richie had screamed ‘_Surprise attack_!’ and jumped on Eddie, crushing him from behind as he was pulling the bottom sheet to fit in the far corner.

Richie held Eddie down, tickling him, ending in the two shrieking with laughter.

Eddie feverishly kicked a rock. The implications of _why_ were there, but Eddie couldn’t trust his own judgement. If it turned out he was right, what would he even do with that information? He lost sleep, just muling it over as he considered every possible outcome. The risk was too high. All he could possibly do was be there for his best friend. Richie was one of the most important people to him in this shit-hole of a town, and he couldn’t risk the loss of someone who is as close to Eddie as Richie was.

With a heavy heart he approached the porch of the Tozier family’s house, and rapt on the door a few times. Eddie rocked back on his heels, spying the small nest up in the tree outside the grey two-story house.

He suddenly heard a small bang, then the sound of a lock, and the door swung open.

"Eds… what’re you doin’ here?” Richie asked with a weak smile. His hair was tousled, his glasses askew. He looked almost as green as the sweat-stained shirt he had on. Eddie pretended not to notice that Richie was wearing no pants; only his black boxers.

“You look like shit.” Eddie stepped back a foot. He felt goosebumps running up his arms, the innate fear of germs along with some questionable physical urges resurfacing.

"I’m totally fine.” Richie lied. He leaned on the doorframe for balance then coughed into his arm. “Just needa sleep it off more.”

Eddie shook his head. “You might need a little more than sleep.” He let himself in through the doorway.

“Breaking and entering, are we?”

“You opened the door for me, so you basically let me in.”

“Basically.” The taller boy smiled sleepily at him. Eddie opened his bag, then the fanny pack, and pulled out a small white mask.

“Why, Doctor Kaspbrak! Are you planning to nurse lil ole me back to health?” Richie spoke dramatically, fluttering his lashes, a hand laying over his forehead as if he were going to faint.

Eddie shot him a look, tucking the straps behind his ears “Do I have a choice? You can barely take care of yourself on a good day.” He couldn’t hold back a smile, though.

“Okay, okay you got me there.” Richie gagged. “God, I can still taste the vomit in my mouth.”

"Did you brush your teeth today?”

“No, I forgot. I was too busy… _BLAAAHG_-ing” Richie held his throat as he mimicked.

"Ugh.” Eddie made a few additional disgusted sounds for emphasis (and maybe to get a giggle out of Richie) as he pulled a bottle of sanitizing wipes out of his bag. “Go wash yourself while I sterilize your bedroom.”

“Aye, aye, Cap’in.” He saluted and wobbled up the stairs, Eddie trailing a few steps behind.

“Don’t faint.” Eddie warned as the black haired teen disappeared into the bathroom. The last thing he wanted was to help an unconscious, naked Richie out of the shower.

//

Richie’s room wasn’t disgusting, exactly, but it could use some work. For starters, there were clothes from the entire week spread out on the floor. _At least there are no stale french fries on his nightstand again,_ Eddie told himself and sighed. His friend has definitely improved on the hygienic side of things over the past years. He slipped on some throw-away gloves and started piling Richie’s dirty clothes in the laundry basket, which was collecting dust in corner of his room. The walls were covered in posters of everything from _Street Fighter_ to _The Cure_, so you could barely notice the pale yellow it was underneath.

“Good.” Eddie admired the room after throwing out the last sanitizing wipe he used on Richie’s desk. He then carefully placed Richie, Mike and Ben’s personalized D&D figurines back on top, along with a cheesey joke book and some looseleaf.

"Is everything back to the way you like it, Eds?” Eddie spun around, one infected glove off, the other still hanging halfway off his hand.

His childhood friend stood there grinning, towel hung loosely around his waist, his hair dripping all over his bedroom carpet. Eddie swallowed.

"Yeah, yeah. Basically spotless now, you better be thanking me.” Eddie looked everywhere but his friends’ pale stomach._ He has a mole there too!?_ Eddie thought frantically.

“Thanks.” Richie patted his shoulder. “Now turn around dude, I gotta change. Unless you want me to put on a show for you?” He bit his lip as he made a goofy expression, swung his hips and hummed a stupid little tune.

Eddie laughed awkwardly. He was on fire from head to toe, and he knew Richie would eventually notice. “Um, get some clean pyjamas the other ones were fucking filthy.” He crossed his arms and sat on the chair at Richie’s desk, facing a poster of Princess Leia.

“Alright, Spaghetti.” Rich made all kinds of noises with mouth that resembled a tune of some kind, likely trying to imitate a song he was listening to earlier today.

“You’re in a good mood for someone so sickly, Trashmouth.”

“It’s because you’re here Eds.” Richie ruffled the other’s hair from behind, a common gesture as of late. “You’re always taking care of me.”

“Okay.” Eddie paused, taking a breath to calm his heart. “You still have to take the medicine I brought.”

The brunet turned in his chair to face a sulking Richie. He groaned and flopped down onto his tidied bed. “Knew yh brough thah groh sh’t.” He said into his pillow.

“This ‘gross shit’ will make you feel less like shit,” Eddie grabbed the bottle and spoon he left on the nightstand. “Sit up.”

Richie sat up, head in his hands, fake sobbing. “I don’t want it, mommy! I don’t want it—"

“God, you’re annoying.” Eddie popped the lid open and poured the syrup onto the spoon. “Open up.”

Richie opened and swallowed, all while staring up at Eddie. Eddie remained the shade of a ripe tomato. He handed his friend a large glass of water.

Richie downed the whole thing in one go. “Damn. Didn’t realize I was that thirsty.”

“Now I’m going to check your temperature.”

"Are you sticking it up my ass? I heard there were thermometers that go up your ass.”

“No, ew. This one goes in your mouth idiot.” He zipped open the fanny pack on the nightstand. “Keep it under your tongue.”

"Mmhm.” Richie childishly kicked his legs back-and-fourth, watching Eddie while he waited.

“What did you eat last?” Eddie pulled out and inspected the thermometer.

“Chicken salad sandwich. Threw that shit right up.” He visibly cringed.

“When? Okay, you’re at 100 degrees.”

“About 4am today… damn, is that bad?” Richie shivered.

“Mild fever. It’s probably just a twenty four hour thing.” Eddie sanitized the stick and put it in a new plastic baggie.

“Chicken soup sound good?”

“I think so, yeah. Maybe. I might have some laying around.” Richie rubbed at his arms. “How the fuck am I hot and cold at the same time?”

“You’re sick, Rich, now get under the covers.” He pulled Richie off the bed and opened the covers for him. “Get under there.” He shoved him back in lightly.

Richie smiled and scooted back on the bed, lifting his arms for Eddie to pull the blanket over his chest. “You even put a towel on my pillow. Aw, baby.”

“Shut up,” Eddie said less firmly than before. “that was the least I did for your ass today.”

"You are a perfect housewife, Eds. Please don’t leave me for someone else.” Richie closed his eyes, grinning at his own joke.

“Haw-haw.” Eddie said emotionlessly and playfully punched his drowsy friends’ arm.

//

Comic book in hand, Richie was barely able to keep his eyes focused on the wise words of Charles Xavier when he heard a clear voice coming from outside his doorway.

“Rich, I’ve got the soup.” Eddie walked in slowly, holding a large mug.

“Wh’ took you so long?” Richie yawned.

“I had to let it cool off so you could drink it right away without burning yourself.”

“Aw, Eddie you know I like a challenge.”

“You know you can’t compete against hot liquid, right Richie? It will burn you literally the instant it makes contact with the inside of your mouth.” Eddie talked with his hand moving frantically near his face, like he used to do all the time when they were kids. Some of the soup spilt over the sides. “Shit.”

“Ah, hand it over.” Richie giggled and took the warm mug in his hands. He made a loud slurping sound with his first sip, eyes looking up at Eddie.

“Gross.” Eddie scrunched his nose in the cute way he often did.

"Tastes good to me, dude.” Richie licked his lips.

“That’s fine, but please stop talking and make sure to finish that up. I gotta make sure it’ll stay in your system before I go home.”

“You’re leaving? Why?” Richie asked drowsily.

“Because school is almost over. Gotta be home by 3:30.”

Richie perked up a bit, his eyes widening comedically. “You ditched school to see me?”

Eddie turned away as if he was embarrassed. “Ugh. Be quiet and drink your soup. Drink as much liquid as you can, you’ll feel much better.”

Richie happily drank the rest, admiring his pessimistic friends’ murmurings while he got his things together. The afternoon sun was shining brightly through the window, illuminating his face so Richie could clearly see the shorter boys’ dimples, light freckles, the tiny gold flecks in his large, round eyes… Eddie had the prettiest eyes Richie had ever seen. _For a boy_, he added quickly.

“C’mere.” Richie gestured a small wave to his friend. “Check my fever one more time before you go.” 

"What? Uh, okay.” Eddie frowned and stood over the bed, his hand laid gently on the other’s forehead.

“How do I feel, Doctah?”

“S-still hot.” Eddie said weakly.

"Thanks.” Richie pulled Eddie’s hand down to his lips and kissed his knuckles. He slowly looked up at Eddie, who just inhaled a short gasp of air.

Richie’s brain felt like mush. “You really helped me today Eds. Thank you, thanks a lot, buddy, really. Okay, I’m tired. Goodnight.” He flipped over, his internal voice repeating, _I’m fucked, I’m fucked in the head!_ and squeezed his eyes shut.

There were a few moments of silence. Richie felt a hand on his shoulder, accompanied by a shaky breath.

Then he felt slight pressure on the side of his forehead right above his eyebrow, a trace of wetness left behind.

“Sleep tight, Richie. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Eddie whispered in his ear.

He then pulled away and shuffled out of the room, closing the door gently behind him.

“Yeah...” Richie said feverishly to his empty room, and slipped into a dreamless sleep. 

**Author's Note:**

> not crazy about this but hope you enjoyed x
> 
> [part 5](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20933228)


End file.
